


Impasse

by Scriptor



Series: Push and Pull [3]
Category: WWE
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:49:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9370874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor/pseuds/Scriptor
Summary: Dean wants more out of AJ but doesn't know how to get it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I don't know where this is going anymore but hey, I'm having fun writing it. Please be kind.

House show number four hundred and… Dean had lost count somewhere. Nights rolled into days rolled into nights. The highlight of the last few weeks were those two intense sessions with AJ. After that night in the elevator, it had been another exchange of mind-blowing blowjobs but AJ hadn’t fucked him. And God, how he wanted him to. In an attempt to bridge the gap - gain some kind of proximity in their time off - he’d started texting him suggestive things here and there with never a reply more than a few short words. Nothing concrete or that gave Dean any idea that they’d hook up again. It angered him and intrigued him at the same time. Plus, he still felt shame over the fact that he so readily submitted to him but it felt right when they were in the moment. 

Dean finished wrapping his wrists and went to Gorilla. AJ was already in the ring, doing his entrance thing, and Dean found his mind not entirely on the match. Their moves so choreographed, so ingrained in memory, he could do them with his eyes closed, half asleep. And tonight he felt like he was. His mind was clouded by his exhaustion and the lust burning a hole inside him.

His theme hit and Dean mustered the wherewithal to bound down the ramp, waving his arms, amping up the crowd. He slid under the bottom rope into the ring and faced off against AJ, nose to nose, angry in the script and in real life; Dean needed some kind of reconciliation because he was literally anguishing over this obsession. No matter what he was doing, AJ dominated his thoughts. He felt like a buoy floating on the water, farther and farther from shore.

They locked up and immediately, after breaking apart, AJ blasted him with a swinging neckbreaker. What the fuck? They hadn’t planned that. Dean recovered then bounced off the ropes to hit AJ with a clothesline. AJ got right back up so Dean took the opportunity to use the ropes again to clothesline a second time but they both took it and ended up on the mat, stunned. Dean felt like AJ wasn’t playing; he was out for blood. The two men slowly got up and for the first time in the match, Dean looked into AJ’s eyes for real, for understanding, in a questioning way. AJ recognized the inquiry and shook his head, then attacked, executing a facebuster. As they both lay on the mat once more, AJ said,

“Goddamit, Dean. I can’t stop thinking about ‘ya.”

Dean got to his feet and as he moved closer, eying the ref’s location so he was out of earshot replied, “Same, motherfucker.” Dean tried to wrap AJ up for an arm bar but he countered, dropped Dean down, and slapped him in the calfcrusher, which really did hurt, truth be told. But Dean could tell AJ angled his shin so that it put more pressure on Dean’s calf. As Dean leaned back to try and alleviate some pressure, he yelled - something deep and primal - letting out the aggression, the pent up frustration between them.

The match wrapped up as expected; Dean won this time. He usually got to at House shows and in dark matches but he wasn’t going to get the belt back any time soon. Creative wanted a long-time AJ reign and truth be told, Dean was ok with it because this feud fueled the electric tension between them that much more when they stole off to their hotel and got a chance to play. At least, that was his hope.

In the locker room, Dean was packing up, weary and ready to head out. He would normally drive onto the next town but they had a day off and he had an early morning flight so the hotel it was. All he wanted was a shower, a pizza, and a bottle of Jack. Well, and AJ. The door burst open and AJ came in, belt over his shoulder and chest glimmering with sweat. Dean cursed under his breath and averted his eyes. “Ambrose!”

Just the sound of that man’s voice – the mere sight of his body – made him dizzy and buzzing with need. The memory of AJ’s cock down his throat instantly made him hard. Dean had always had submissive tendencies but God, AJ was the perfect Dom, the Dom he needed and never knew it. He didn’t have to go to a club for that because he had it right here, at work of all places. But that could not go on, could it? This was business and that was pleasure. And the right kind of pleasure; the memory of AJ’s hands coming down hard on his ass, leaving bruises, was mind-numbing. 

“Position. Now.”

His mind stutter-stepped but then caught up like a wheel spinning out on wet pavement. He set aside his tape and bag and dropped to the floor, cold concrete of the scant dressing room biting into his already sore kneecaps. He clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head.

“You’re gorgeous. Beautiful like that.” 

AJ tilted his face upwards by the chin. “Tonight, we make progress. Get your things and meet me at my car.”

“Yes, sir.” Dean replied, hurrying a little; his heart alight with promise.

Dean waited in the emptying lot behind the arena because he realized he had no idea what car AJ had even rented. From around the corner screeched a black Dodge Challenger that halted right in front of him, then the window rolled down. AJ in a backwards ballcap was hotter than Dean’s wildest fucking dreams.

“Get in. We have work to do, boy.” Dean trotted around to the passenger side, did a quick scan of his surroundings for any of the other guys, then got in. AJ stepped on it, getting up to and past speed limit as he merged onto the highway. The car was deathly quiet, save for the hum of the road and the purr of the powerful engine. Dean was anxious, his heart pounding thinking about what AJ might do to him. Would he spank him again? Tie him up? A shiver overtook him and AJ happened to be looking over. He flipped on the heat and set the vent towards Dean. As his hand moved from the dials, it settled on Dean's thigh. And it was comfortable, he had to admit. AJ slowly slid his hand up Dean’s leg, squeezing, reassuring. The contact was a tether, a promise; one Dean really needed. AJ still didn’t speak as they neared the downtown Doubletree. “AJ, I…”  
AJ held up a finger to stay him, then pressed that finger to Dean’s lips. AJ shook his head then pointed at the hotel. That was it; that was the command. Go; wait. Dean would have done just about anything that man said; he just wanted to feel that contact again like the times before. It isn’t like he hadn’t relationships in the past, but this? Something felt more tangible, more genuine. He needed that in his life. 

Outside the car, AJ slipped his keycard into Dean’s back pocket and leaned in. “Go to the room; be naked.” AJ whispered huskily, nipping his earlobe as he pulled away. AJ took his time rifling through some bags in the trunk as Dean stole away. The elevator ride was as slow as molasses. Dean’s hand trembled slightly as he swiped the card and scrambled into the darkened room. He turned on one dim light and started stripping. He waited in position, leaning back on his calves for a solid ten minutes, watching the minutes roll by on the bright red digital alarm clock. For a second he was nervous but as he waited in the quiet, in the comforting familiarity of another hotel room, he took solace in the fact that he believed AJ wouldn’t hurt him in any way.  
Finally, he heard the click of the lock and felt AJ’s presence.

“Good boy.” AJ praised. “You waited so patiently.” 

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Much better.” 

Dean watched AJ toe off his shoes and place his stuff on an overstuffed arm chair in the corner. He removed his shirt in one swift movement then stared Dean down in a sort of menacing way, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth.

“I think you’re ready for this tonight.” He said, getting out a swatch of black fabric, about three feet long. Dean’s heart pounded in his chest and as AJ approached, his cock twitched. He had never been blindfolded before. Spanked? Check. Tied up? Once. But this was new and he couldn’t remember a time in recent memory he had felt that spark of excitement so sudden and strong.

“Let me know if it’s too tight.” 

Dean hummed consent and adjusted to his sight being hindered. As expected, his other senses heightened. As AJ finished tying the fabric, Dean smelled his familiar scent: like clove and leather. He heard the rustle of the hotel duvet dipping and shifting as the other man backed off and walked away towards the bathroom. The click of the light switch seemed to echo in his ears. Toilet flush. Water on, water off. Light switch. Then, nothing. It was both a little frightening and exhilarating, not knowing what was going on.

“AJ?” Dean asked, curious.

“How do you feel?” 

“I’m cold and my arms hurt and I’m fucking hard. And neglected!” Dean whined

“Insolent brat.” AJ stated matter-of-factly. “Five? No, ten for that.”

Suddenly, Dean was being maneuvered into a position that made him feel like a child, and though he felt man-handled and emasculated at first, he pieced together that he’d mouthed off and this was his punishment. And what sweet punishment it would be. Draped over AJ’s lap, head down, arms towards the floor, he relaxed slightly.

“Count out loud.” AJ commanded and without any warning, landed the first hard slap across Dean’s backside. He flinched and it stung but it was not entirely unpleasant. Dean was used to taking bumps, to the array of bruises his body sustained every single time he wrestled. But this was a different pain with a different purpose. AJ continued his assault on Dean’s ass in a steady metered way; really putting his weight into it too. He was not holding back.

“Eight… nine…” Dean panted. His ass was hot and stinging and as he neared ten, his head had begun to swim a little and he felt a bit euphoric. “Ten.” Dean could barely speak at this point. AJ was well aware of how this might affect him and helped the other man get back on the bed. 

“Dean, baby…”AJ began, laying him on his stomach and spreading his legs slightly. “I’ll be right back.”

Dean was still blindfolded and he felt like he was floating away; what grounded him was the low burn on his backside. It felt real. Pain had always been the only thing that kept him aware that he did in fact exist; that he was alive. You become desensitized to the nightly beatings but that was how it had begun. The pain from wrestling filled that hole before but then it became the norm once again. But now, AJ was giving that back to him: it was the lifeline he needed.

AJ’s hands gently rubbed a salve on his wounded flesh, delicately erasing the physical pain but imprinting a promise to care for and protect. For a moment, in the darkness of the cloth, Dean’s eyes felt the pinprick of tears; something struck him about the tenderness of the touch. And that instilled panic as well. He started to rustle, to try and get up but AJs big hand flat on his back stilled him. AJ’s deft hands untied the blindfold and scooped Dean up to turn him to his side.

“Hey, hey, shh. Dean, listen to me. If this is not ok, you have to tell me.”

“No it’s… fine. Good, actually. I, um, I dunno, Just got weirded out for a minute.”

A sobering moment occurred between them as they looked at each other. Dean saw sincerity in the other man’s eyes and that ‘gonna cry’ feeling started to surface again, this time as a lump in his throat he could barely swallow around. But what was it that he felt? A rush of emotion swept over him and he covered his face with his hands, never having felt so damn vulnerable before and he was, at that moment, pissed off and embarrassed.

“Hey, I think maybe that’s enough for tonight.” AJ said, pulling the covers up over Dean before turning off the light.


End file.
